


Sustenance

by QueenOfCarrotFlowers



Series: Carrot's Romance Fics [27]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mad Max Fusion, Angst, Come Eating, Come Sharing, Cunnilingus, F/M, Hand Feeding, Inspired by Mad Max: Fury Road, Kylo is an Imperator, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Rey is a Milking Mother, implied vascectomy, no mentions of pregnancy, shades of Handmaid's Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfCarrotFlowers/pseuds/QueenOfCarrotFlowers
Summary: The sound of a clearing throat interrupts her reverie. She opens her eyes and he's there, holding out a small plate that is piled with berries. It’s an offering. He looks different without cherry blossoms in his hair.Rey is a milking mother and Kylo Ren is an Imperator under the service of the Supreme Leader. They very rarely get time alone.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Carrot's Romance Fics [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801348
Comments: 36
Kudos: 80
Collections: Reylo After Dark





	Sustenance

**Author's Note:**

> My brain: I want to write a Fury Road AU! Hey I know, I'll make it a smutty oneshot where Rey is a milking mother, then there can be lactation kink! Haha, hot lactation! [I start to write] Hey wait! Wait! Why is it _sad_????
> 
> Anyway, here is some not very smutty and kinda sad and angsty Fury Road-inspired Reylo for whoever wants it. Thanks to flypaper_brain for the encouragement and beta read!
> 
> Thank you to vanilla_villain for the moodboard <3  
> 

Rey awakens slowly, twisting in the light blanket that's become tangled around her shoulders in sleep. The rag doll has fallen to the floor; she grabs it, clutches it to her chest. Her breasts are sore. She's hungry, too, but that can wait. Milking comes first.

She takes a leisurely piss in the shared lavatory behind the curtain and washes herself in the basin before she exits the sleeping room. A few of the milk mothers doze on in the dim heat, but others, like her, are ready for work. She nods at them while she sets herself up: sleeping shirt off, cups over her breasts, she hisses at the pressure on her tender nipples. Leather strap around her back, rag doll at its spot on her shoulder. Across the room an Imperator stands with a couple of War Boys, gazing off the balcony at the rabble gathered below. Today is Watering Day, the occasional holiday when the Supreme Leader will share his bounty. But Rey isn't concerned with that now.

She flips the switch on her milking machine and it lurches to life. She gasps in immediate relief as the yellow fluid spurts out of her nipples, the tiny disparate drops hitting the clear plastic before dripping down into the tubes where it will be sucked into the bottle at her side. It's empty now, but by the time the sun sets tonight it will be full of her liquid gold, Mother's Milk, one of the most prized possessions of the Citadel.

She's allowed herself to relax, her head is slumped back, her eyes are closed. The steady groan of the machine and the tugging of the pressure on her nipples encourages daydreams. She remembers the time Before, when there was green and happiness, when she rolled with her lover under a cherry tree and laughed when the tiny pink flowers stuck in his hair. The memory makes her smile; it also makes her want to scream and cry at the unfairness of it all. Despite her misery she grows steadily more slick between her legs.

The sound of a clearing throat interrupts her reverie. She opens her eyes and he's there, holding out a small plate that is piled with berries. It’s an offering. He looks different without cherry blossoms in his hair.

"Fruit?" He asks, and she nods and opens her mouth. He carefully picks up a strawberry, small and dark, and pops it in her mouth. It's sweet and tart and refreshing, and it stains the tips of his fingers a deep red. His hands are large, his fingers are thick, and she watches them as he picks up each piece of fruit - strawberries and raspberries and grapes and slick slices of apricot - and slips them between her lips one after the other. 

As he feeds her the War Boys depart one by one, grunting acknowledgement as they scoot by their Imperator, who crouches at the feet of his lover. It's a thing familiar to all of them. The other women unhook themselves and return to the sleeping room. The Supreme Leader won't be here for a while, and a few minutes won't make that much difference to the harvest.

When they're alone, Rey catches his finger, heavy with juice, between her lips and sucks it in. His eyes are dark, made darker by the black grease streaked across his face and over the crown of his head, shaved bald, no sign of his former tresses anywhere to be found. She still loves him, even though he looks different, even though he is now the right hand of the Supreme Leader, terror of the world; even though he is now called Kylo Ren instead of the name she used to cry out under the cherry trees.

"Ben," she whispers, once she’s let his finger go. "Ben, we're alone." 

"Rey," he answers, and surges up to kiss her. He moans into her mouth, "no time" and she smiles against him.

"Make it count, then." 

"You taste like berries." He growls, pushing his hands up her long skirt, which she keeps draped loose around her knees in the heat. 

"I taste even better down here," she teases, lifting her skirt to her waist and shifting her hips forward, to the edge of the seat, careful of the tubes that connect her breasts, still leaking, to the glass bottle.

He growls again and then he's on her, no time for preamble. His tongue slips between her lips and probes her opening, his nose nudges into her hair and finds her clit. He rubs his face into her as though her slick is his war paint. She was already riled up from the milking, so it only takes a few minutes of gentle persuasion to lead her to orgasm. Her hand grips his head as she comes, ghosts of his hair threaded between her fingers.

She’s still dealing with the aftershocks when he pushes inside her, leans over to kiss her face. He smells like grease and sweat and her cunt, and she grabs his muscular shoulder with one hand while the other one slips down between his legs and fingers the scar, almost too small to notice, that marrs the soft skin of his scrotum. That scar is what makes these stolen interludes possible, and as much as Rey hates what it represents she can appreciate it for this reason alone.

His thrusts follow the rhythm of the milking machine, the slow and steady whirr of each pump, but it’s not enough and she moves against him, encouraging him, slipping her hand up so she can rub against her clit. Her second orgasm arrives quickly, surprising them both, and Ben grunts as he follows right behind her. He stays inside of her for as long as he can, but eventually he grows soft, and they both know that the others will want to come back soon to resume their own responsibilities. Stolen moments are contraband, and need to be appreciated, no matter how brief they are. 

Ben slips out and puts himself away. Rey admires his leather trousers, and considers how under any other circumstances she would find them incredibly attractive. His body is fit from years of being Kylo Ren, broad and muscular, and those trousers show off the muscles of his thighs, but like everything else here - like the grease on his face, and the cups strapped to her body - they represent their servitude. It’s almost enough to cause one to give up hope.

Ben is back on his knees in front of her chair, fingers interlaced with her own, watching his spend leak slowly out of her.

“Don’t waste it,” Rey chides, and he leans forward to gather it in his mouth, gently licks her clean. He presents it to her, pearlescent on his tongue, and she takes it, another offering, this one not sweet and refreshing, but salty and bitter; it’s his, though, and she loves it. They both pause, staring into each other’s eyes. Aside from the sound of Rey’s machine and the muted din of the people gathering below, the room is silent; no movement to be heard from the sleeping room, or the hallway. With shaking hands Rey flips the switch on her machine and loosens the strap that holds the cups to her chest, lifting one up to expose a pink and swollen nipple. Ben takes it into his mouth and suckles gently; Rey draws him close and moans in pleasure at the sensation of her milk emptying into his mouth, where it belongs. This is her offering to him; it’s all she has now.

Heavy footsteps outside the room announce the end of their rendezvous. Ben hurriedly lifts his mouth from her breast and wipes his lips and his eyes. One final squeeze of her hands and he is the Imperator Kylo Ren again, the leader of the Supreme Leader’s private army. He walks back to the balcony at the other end of the room, followed closely by the others, who grunt their greetings to Rey as they did when they left, minutes before. Rey straightens out her skirt, and the women come back too, hooking themselves to their own machines, quiet conversation mixing with the thrum of the milking. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @flowerofcarrots on Twitter if you want to come yell at me.
> 
> Edit: if you're curious about what happened before and after, I've provided a prologue and epilogue of sorts in the comments (tw pregnancy)
> 
> If you would like to read other Reylo Fury Road AUs, here are a couple:
> 
> [The Future Belongs to the Mad by PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722633)
> 
> [bright as the sky by neonheartbeat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28213794)
> 
> Here is the moodie I posted with fic on Twitter  
> 


End file.
